Silence
by this SHIP of FOOLS
Summary: Just a normal day in the weasley household. And by that, we mean not normal at all. So, what drama will happen today, eh? HarryGinny plus a bit of AngieGeorgie and HermioneRon. All good fun. Humor, Drama, Romance.
1. A Breakup? Maybe

**A/N: YAY! NEW STORY! _You_ excited? I'm excited! Ah! Possibly my longest story on fanfiction EVER! CUPCAKES! (i just felt like typing that) but ... DANG IT! Now I reallyreallyreally want cupcakes... **

**Anyway...**

**Oh, yeah! Disclaimer! Heh heh... **

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that JK Rowling owns. Yeh. **

* * *

><p>It was a stormy night, but not raining yet. The Weasleys – with the exception of Harry and Ginny – were all sitting in the living room. Harry and Ginny were out at a party. Hermione was sitting on the couch next to Ron, not arguing and snuggling up next to him with his arm around her. The clatter of pots and pans echoed from the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was cleaning up after dinner. Mr. Weasley was in the house somewhere…doing something…George was lounging in a chair by the fire, working on a new product for Weasleys' Wizarding Weezes. When suddenly, he lept up and called to Mrs. Weasley, "Mum! I'm going to get my girlfriend! I'll bring her 'round about 10, kay?" This spontaneous statement caused excitement across the house.<p>

"Girlfriend?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Way to go, George!" Ron called.

"Who is it?" Hermione mused.

"But I thought Ron already had a girlfriend!" Mr. Weasely stated, confused by the commotion.

George rolled his eyes. "You'll meet her at 10!" he said, winked, and disapperated.

The house was quiet yet again. Mrs. Weasley had decided to start cleaning, and was currently moving about with a duster, telling it where to dust. Ron and Hermione were talking in hushed tones by the fire. Mr. Weasley was out in the chicken coop working on another one of his muggle projects. All was normal. Well, as normal as a typical Weasley night could get.

The rain was starting to spatter on the roof. Mrs. Weasley finished dusting. Ron and Hermione started snogging. Mr. Weasley was still out in the chicken coop…

Mrs. Weasley started knitting in the rocking chair. Ron and Hermione continued snogging. Mr. Weasley continued tinkering in the chicken coop…

Mrs. Weasley was still knitting. Everything continued as it was, peacefully. Until…

CRACK!

The sound of apparation split through the air. The peace was disturbed. The Weasley household heard voices.

"No! No! Don't you dare!" a female voice roared.

"Ginny!" its male counterpart yelled, "That's not what I -"

"Not what you … what? Not what you meant? That is _exactly_ what you meant! You oaf!"

"No! It isn't! You don't -"

"I've told you Harry, I'm not some damsel in distress that -"

"Oh, so that's what this is about? I never thought that you were a -"

"Yes, you did! You are a noble, brave git!"

The voices were getting closer. Hermione and Ron could see Harry and Ginny through the window. They were completely soaked from the rain, but neither of them seemed to notice. They had reached the front door.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Harry asked, flustered.

Ginny gave a cry of frustration and stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Mrs. Weasley called out to her, "Ginny dear! You're soaked! Come and have some hot chocolate!"

Ginny ignored her mother and ran past her. Harry ran after her, also ignoring Mrs. Weasley's calls. "Oh! They'll catch a cold!" She muttered to herself. She looked up at the clock, and George's spoon was moving toward "home."

CRACK!

The sound of another apparation reverberated in the ears of Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione. George and someone else (who in the dim light looked quite familiar) appeared at the edge of the property. George cast a shield charm to keep off the rain and ran inside with his mysterious girlfriend.

… Who, in fact, turned out to be Angelina Johnson!

They appeared in the doorway. Angelina was reprimanding George on his organizational skills while he laughed at her. Mrs. Weasley offered them both hot chocolate and warm blankets. They gladly accepted. They sat down on a couch by the fire, and introductions were made. With all of the commotion no one noticed that the murmuring upstairs was slowly increasing in volume.

"Ron, Hermione, Mum, this is Angelina Johnson, my girlfriend." They all mumbled "Hello." and smiled.

"Angie, this is -" He was interrupted.

"Don't call me that!" Angelina said.

"What?" He asked.

"Don't call me Angie!" She insisted vehemently.

"Oh. Okay…anyway, _Angelina_" He emphasized, "This is my family. Well, except for Ginny, Harry, Percy, Bill, Charlie and Dad…"

"So, really, it isn't your family at all, just a small part of it." She joked.

"Yeah!" George said, enthusiastically.

Crash! The sound of falling furniture echoed from upstairs, where the murmuring had changed to shouting and those sitting in the living room could almost discern the words being said.

"Horrible!" They heard this word distinctly. An outraged shout, then a bang, then a cry of pain. George looked amused, Angelina perplexed, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione exchanged worried looks. Ron was a bit confused. The yelling escalated and they recognized Ginny's voice.

"Always! Potter you always do that! How many times do I…"

They couldn't make out the words said next. Then Harry could be heard.

"No! Why do you always insist " Harry was cut off.

"I insist because it's true! You have never told me about…" Her voice faded.

Then feet pounded on the floor above the living room, more shouting, and the slamming of a door was heard. _Clunk, clunk, clunk,_ Ginny's old, ratty sneakers slapped the stairs as she ran down them toward the living room. She had changed out of her green party dress and into a Holy Head Harpies t-shirt and old jeans, which looked hastily put on. The elaborate twist her hair had been in had slipped and was now lying in a rat's nest of pins and hair ties at the nape of her neck. There were tear stains on her cheeks, her make-up had smeared and her face was flushed a deep crimson with anger. Her wand was shoved in her pocket. She had her purse in one hand and a duffle bag in the other. Ginny reached the bottom of the stairs and marched toward the front door. _Thud, thud, thud,_ Harry's feet pounded on the stairs as he raced after Ginny for the second time that evening. Harry was still wearing dress shirt and pants, although he was barefoot. He was developing a large black and blue bruise under his right eye and had the remnants of Ginny Weasley's famous bat bogey hex marring his facial features. His hair was a bright pink in color, probably from another hex Ginny had thrown at him. It clashed horridly with his eyes. He reached the bottom of the stairs and grabbed Ginny's arm.

"Wait!" He said.

She pulled out of his grasp.

"You know what? No! I'm not waiting! I waited a whole year for you!" she spat. "This is _IT_! You won't tell me what happened. You won't deal with all those people, you won't do anything!"

Everyone gasped at the fight.

"It's as bad as Ron and Hermione!" Angelina stage-whispered to George.

"No, it's worse!" George hissed back.

Ginny gripped her duffle bag tighter.

Mrs. Weasley hurried to her.

"Ginny! You're not leaving, are you?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, Mum, I am." She said dramatically.

Her mother opened her mouth to speak again, but Ginny turned and rushed out the door. This time, Harry did not follow.

It had stopped raining. For the third time that night the house was silent. Harry just stood there, looking at the door. Everyone was in shock_. What was the fight about anyway?_ They wondered. Angelina broke the silence.

"Does this happen often?" she asked.

"No!" Ron said.

"Never!" insisted Hermione..

"Of course not!" scoffed George.

Mrs. Weasley still stared at the door in shock. "I can't believe she left." She muttered to herself.

Harry stood there in a daze. Everyone looked at him worriedly. Then he suddenly sat down on the floor and put his head in his hands. Everyone could see what he was feeling. His face said it clearly: numb. Before, when Ginny was there, it had been pain and shock. Now, he just looked dazed. Everything was foggy.

Again, Angelina broke the silence. "I really do hope that never happens to us, Georgie."

He looked up sharply. "Don't call me that!" he said, exasperated.

"Well, you called me Angie!"

"I changed it though!"

"But that was not the first time!"

"This wasn't the first time you called me Georgie, either!"

Angelina sighed. "Truce?" she asked.

"Hell no!" he said stubbornly. "Am I a Gryffindor or what? I do not give up!"

She smiled wickedly, "Neither do I, Georgie, neither do I."

George huffed. "Well, _Angie_," he said, emphasizing the nickname that she obviously despised, "I don't!"

Apparently, George was at a loss for words. She smiled wryly and pecked him teasingly on the cheek. He rolled his eyes in response and kissed her full on the mouth. This rash action was a shock to Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Mr, Weasley, who had just come in from the chicken coop. But it was obviously quite normal for George and Angelina. In fact, it occurred to Hermione that they both seemed to be holding back. She pondered this for a moment before she came to the conclusion that it was they were in front of George's family.

Harry, who was still sitting on the floor, seemed to not be numb anymore. Tears were trickling in tiny rivers down his cheeks and making puddles on the floor. Mr. Weasley looked around in confusion. He peered down at Harry and asked him what was wrong. All Harry could manage for a response was a barely coherent "Ginny," through his wrenching sobs. Mr. Weasley sighed in exasperation and, thinking this was just a normal little spat between the two, asked "What did she do _this_ time?" Harry glared at him and stood. "I'm going to bed." He announced to the room, and shuffled upstairs. Almost simultaneously, everyone shot concerned glances in his direction.

"I hope he's going to be okay." Hermione said.

"Yeah," said Ron, always ready to agree with Hermione and avoid an argument.

George smirked at Ron's pathetic suck-up attempt. Angelina chuckled at the scene and rolled her eyes at George while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked even more concerned. Mr. Weasley asked, "What happened? Wait, where's Ginny?" Immediately everyone grew sober and mournful.

"They had a fight." Said Ron.

"Oh. Well, where's Ginny?" Asked Arthur, not comprehending just how bad their fight had actually been.

"She left," Molly said, "just…just grabbed her bag and left."

Mr. Weasley sat down next to his wife. "What do you mean, left?"

"Well," Hermione piped up, "she had a huge fight with Harry. It was really ugly, and ⎯ ."

"Yeah, she hexed him to hell and back, she did!" said Ron.

Both Mrs. Weasley and Hermione turned to him and scolded him for interrupting, his rudeness, and cursing. When done, they both shot him dirty looks and Mrs. Weasley turned to Hermione, "Please continue, dear," she said sweetly.

George and Angelina, still entwined on the couch, burst out laughing. Everyone else choose to ignore them (except Mr. Weasley, who was confused yet again.)

"What - " he was about to ask about them, when Hermione interrupted him.

"Anyway," she said loudly, " they fought and she stormed out the door, with a duffle bag."

"Oh," said Mr. Weasley. He looked remorseful now. Everyone nodded.

"So … Why … Uh, who is that?" he asked, pointing at Angelina.

George and Angelina broke apart and turned to face Mr. Weasley.

"Hello!" Angelina said brightly, extending her hand to shake Mr. Weasley's as best she could while squished against George. "I'm Angelina, George's girlfriend."

Mr. Weasley's eyebrows hit the ceiling.

"Oh my!" he said, "Well, I'm very pleased to meet you." They shook hands.

When Mr. Weasley wasn't looking, Ron held up his fingers and counted. He silently mouthed, "One…Two…" Mr. Weasley took a breath. "Three!"

Mr. Weasley spoke, "Do you know anything about muggles?"

It took all of Hermione's strength to keep from laughing. Angelina looked perplexed and said, " Er no … "

"Oh." Mr. Weasley looked crestfallen.

"My dad is obsessed with muggles." George stated, as a way of explanation.

Angelina nodded solemnly.

Hermione then asked the question that was inevitable, unavoidable, and absolutely surprising that it hadn't been asked earlier. "How long have you two been going out?"

George grinned. He and Angelina exchanged glances. "A year," they said.

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows. "You went out for a year and didn't tell?" She asked suspiciously.

Angelina fidgeted nervously.

"Yup." George said cheerfully, grinning goofily.

"Well, how did you... get together?" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Angelina really helped me through... Fred. So, we just sorta..." He faded out. George and Angelina shared a smile and held hands.

Silence again. No one spoke, obviously at a loss for words.

"Mum, are there any biscuits left?" Ron asked.

She sighed.

"No dear, you ate them all yesterday."

"What ?" he asked, outraged, "I only ate two!"

"No," Hermione said, before anyone else could speak, "you ate two, got distracted, and then ate four more without completely noticing that you were doing it. Then, at about midnight, you got up for a snack and ate the last five."

Ron looked at her quizzically, "How did you know I was up at midnight?"

"B – because … because I – I – I was … you woke me up." She stuttered.

"No I didn't." He said slowly.

"How do you know?" She sniffed.

"Because you were asleep when I checked on you." He said, and then covered his mouth with his hands like a child who'd said something naughty without meaning to. His eyes widened and his ears blazed a bright crimson.

Hermione blushed a tomato red and whispered soft, "Oh."

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. Then he abruptly got up and left.

"Uh," Hermione stammered. "Wait!" She said, getting out of her chair and running after Ron, "Wait!"

The door to the kitchen closed behind them. Again, there was an extremely awkward silence.

"Six." George announced to the room.

"What?" Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Angelina asked, utterly confused.

"Six awkward silences," he said. Then, whispering conspiratorially, "I've been counting."

Mrs. Weasley sighed exasperatedly and looked up at the ceiling as if the rafters would somehow give her guidance about her son's behavior. She huffed and stood.

"George, will you be going to bed anytime soon?"

With a significant glance toward Angelina , he said in answer, "I think so. What time is it?"

Mrs. Weasly glanced around, pretending not to notice the fact that her son and his girlfriends were, indeed, sleeping together.

"Arthur, what time is it?" She asked.

He checked his watch. "Around 12. You know, I wish I had a muggle watch. They have these wonderful kinds, called digitals that tell the time for you. You don't even have to look at the hands. It just has numbers!"

"Er, that's great Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said.

Ron appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Mum, I'm going to bed."

"Good night dear. Sleep well."

"Er, yeah." He turned and was that a smear of lip gloss on his neck? trotted upstairs. Hermione scuttled up behind him.

"Good night, Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley called after her.

George chuckled. His parents looked at him, unsure whether or not they should ask what he was laughing at. Angelina beat them to it before they could decide.

"What?" She whispered.

"I swear our Ronald had a pale pink lipgloss mark on his neck!" said George.

"Hermione doesn't wear make-up, though does she?" Angelina asked.

"She has started to. Ever since the war ended, and more often when Ron is around." Said Mrs. Weasley.

"You'd be surprised how far a girl will go for a guy." Said Angelina, with a slight glance toward George.

"You never really needs to, though." Replied Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. She too glanced at her love, obviously reminiscing.

Mr. Weasley stood and broke the (7th) silence, "Well," he said, "I'm going to bed."

Mrs. Weasley stood, too, and followed him into their bedroom.

Angelina kissed her "Georgie" goodbye, after yet another playful debate of pet names, and floo'd back to the flat above W.W.W's. Of course, no one knew that Angie slept there. They had their suspicions, though…

George was staying at the Burrow to spend time with his family. Everyone was in bed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So... that was the first chapter. **

QUITE DRAMATIC, NO?

**but... it's not fifnish[;**

anyway...

(did you notice my winkwinksmily?)

**The next chapter is coming up soo -**

waddoyoomeeaaan "soon"?

**Alright, just SHUT UP!**

why?

**BECAUSE YOUR ANNOYING!**

_Are you talking to yourself again?_

**Maybe...**

Maybe...

**ANYWAY. **

**Please review! Reviews are like locally made, delicious cupcakes: THEY MAKE ME HAPPY! :P**

So please review.

_yummy..._


	2. A Reunion? Possibly

**A/N: SECOND **

**'nuff said.**

**stuff.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING THAT J.K. ROWLING OWNS (which is quite sad. I wish _I _made that much moolah)**

* * *

><p>Breakfast was a somber affair. Harry was beyond melancholy. Even Ron's attempts did nothing to help him. Hermione's recital of the exact ingrediants in a happiness potion and the suggestion of a cheering charm did not help matters. Mrs. Weasley's wonderful breakfast was not eaten. The meal passed slowly. George had chosen to eat with Angelina, while Percy… Well, Mrs. Weasley truthfully had no idea where he was. His hand on the clock was teetering between "lost," "traveling," and "work." Her only guess was that he was at a different house. The family had made their amends with him after the war, but they still had no idea of his whereabouts half the time. After breakfast, Hermione grabbed a book from her room and curled up on a battered, frayed, and extremely fluffy red armchair by the fire. Ron sat on the floor in front of her and challenged Harry to a game of wizard chess. Harry declined, instead opting for staring mournfully out of the window. Ron then annoyed Hermione by constantly asking what her book was about. Then George arrived through the fireplace with a cloud of soot, extremely messy hair, and a half unbuttoned shirt. This was not surprising considering the bright red lipstick marks trailing from his cheek to his ear, down his jaw, and disappearing around his collar bone. Ronald guffawed at the sight.<p>

"Angelina sends her regards." He said, winking at Ron and strutted into the kitchen to badger Mrs. Weasley about leftovers from breakfast. He was lucky, there was plenty.

Like any normal chaotic Weasley morning, it just wouldn't be complete if someone didn't upset everyone's calm and turn their world upside down. Or in this case, right side up. You see, a certain red-haired girl had just spent the night in a muggle tavern and was in need of a certain someone to cheer her up. Unfortunately, that certain someone was in no condition to cheer anyone up. In fact, he was in need of some happiness himself. So, that certain girl, who need cheering up from her certain someone, decided that she would have to take matters in her own hands and do it for herself. She would have to swallow her pride and return to the place she'd left. After all, she'd been through worse things. For example, waiting a year for her love, not knowing if he was alive or dead? Yeah, she'd been there.

Harry was interrupted from his morose gazing by a bang on the front door. Shouts of surprise echoed from the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was brewing potions, and where George was eating and probably planning pranks (or making them considering he hadn't pulled one in a while).

BANG!

There it was again. Mrs. Weasley peered out from the kitchen doorway and frowned, "That's odd," she said, "The door's not locked. Maybe it's Arthur. He probably isn't able to open it." She didn't say what she was really thinking: maybe it's Ginny. Mrs. Weasley walked to the door and looked out the window beside it.

"Harry," she said, not turning her head to look at him. "Would you come here and open this for me?" Everyone except Harry saw her mischievous smile. She closed the curtain and looked at him expectantly.

"Okay," he said, shuffling over to the door.

Mrs. Weasley left and made such an attempt to be inconspicuous that she ended up knocking over a self-stirring pot still on the kitchen table. The day was bright and sunny, but nobody was in a happy mood. They waited in anticipation for Harry to open the door.

He did.

"Ginny," he said curtly. She said nothing. Everyone could see the pain clearly on her face. Harry's face was worse. He looked as if he'd seen his death.

She pushed past him where everyone could see her. At first glance, she appeared to look the same as last night. But looking closer you would notice that the duffle bag was battered and stained, her hair was tangled and matted. She looked as if she'd slept badly. Her clothes were dirty and even though she was carrying a duffle bag, she had not changed. Her Harpies t-shirt was so tattered she probably would never be able to wear it again.

She turned, "Harry?"

He spoke hurriedly, "Ginny! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. Those people -"

She interrupted him, "No! Harry, if anyone should be sorry, it's me. I'm an idiot! I over-reacted. Those people weren't doing anything wrong. You are completely -"

He interrupted her, "I should have told you, though! I've never told you anything about... about horcruxes or the war. I need to trust you. And those people _were_ being nosey. I -"

He was interrupted again by Ginny. "Harry, stop interrupting me!"

He finally did.

"I love you," she said.

He smiled a great big, lopsided smile that brightened the whole room. No one had noticed how his bad mood had been affecting them. Their spirits lifted with his.

"I love you too, Ginny."

She stepped forward and he met her halfway. He wrapped his arms around her, and she burrowed her head into his shoulder. He murmured into her fiery mass of tangles, "I missed you."

She snorted and grinned, "I was only gone for a night."

Harry closed his eyes and nuzzled further into her curls. "Still," he protested.

They stood like that for the longest time. There was, again, silence. It was a quiet comfort. At last, there was peace.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yayyyyyyyy stuuuuffffff yeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh**

**:)**

**Review? **

**PLEASE?**

**I'M DESPERATE! **

**Sort of.**

**I mean, you don't _HAAAVVEE _to...**

**.**

**..**

**...**

**..**

**.**

**but i want you to...**

**_ENOUGH WITH THE GUILT TRIPPING, CHIPPY!_**

and stop talking to yourself too!

_**okay. fine.**_

**check out my new pollllllllll!**


End file.
